


Beautiful Fighter

by whiskeygirl17



Category: Romance - Fandom, drugs - Fandom, slash - Fandom, tragedy - Fandom
Genre: F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 20:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiskeygirl17/pseuds/whiskeygirl17





	Beautiful Fighter

***Disclaimer*** this story has lots of violence and domestic abuse. It also contains lesbian love, and straight love. PG 15+ (mild language and sex, swearing, drug abuse & use)

Prologue  
Dustin  
When I was younger, I really wanted to be older, I wanted to be able to do what I wanted. I wanted to be a grown up. I wanted to be my own person, but now I guess I turned out a little better than the way that everyone thought I would. In high school I was the one voted most likely to either die from drugs, fights, or from the police. The others thought I would get arrested before the age of twenty-five, but here I am still alive at twenty-five but not wanting to be.  
When I was three my dad left us, when I was fifteen my mom married a guy that was actually good for our family and the guy had a daughter who was five and a son who was seventeen. The son was nice at first and then he got increasingly angry at little things going on around him. When he was on drugs it was even worse because nothing could stop his craziness. Every time I said anything to him that made him angry he beat me up, when I told my step-dad I was gay Ash overheard our conversation and he beat me up so badly that I couldn’t breathe on my own because he crushed my throat in. Everyone thought I was going to die.  
My new stepsister is what kept me alive this long, her love rubs off on everyone around her except it didn’t help my mother or stepbrother. My mom died of a heroin OD, but she wasn’t really a mother to me in the first place, she never loved any of us. She became a prostitute to feed her addiction. I hated her for so long but now what I think about her is that I'm sorry that I couldn’t help her get on the right track. I thought that I would never be one of those ‘stupid’ kids the ones that turn out like my mother from the wrong side of town. The kids that get drunk on every night that ends in a ‘y’.  
I said I wouldn’t start smoking. Said I wouldn’t do drugs. I said I wouldn’t get in fights, but now fighting is my job. Now that I'm older I wish I had the innocence that I had when I was younger, even though that wasn’t much. When I didn’t even know what being ‘addicted’ to something was. When I just thought my ‘mommy was sick’. Why did God make it so easy for people to die? Was it a quirk? Where there never supposed to be humans? People think I'm broken, or destroyed because I am not the perfect person they are.  
I am a fighter, I fight for money. In life only the strong willed survive intact. Most of us come out scarred. Our minds, our hearts, our bodies, our souls, they are all harmed in life. Even the strong willed people, but some people handle it better. Some people just shut down and turn into an empty shell of pain, some put on a happy smile and bare through it, and then some… they do whatever they can to make life bearable. They smoke, or do drugs, or get drunk. All this is to hide away from the pain. I get the saying ‘drowning your sorrows away’ that is why people get drunk they are trying to forget all the bad that has happened. Me being rich from my job means that whenever I want I can get drunk, I can buy drugs, and any other thing I want but I don't know what I'm doing anymore so I just go along with the ride. The money that I get from fighting helps with everything that I need.  
I'm Dustin ‘The Dragon’ Hall because of how ruthless I am in the ring. I almost died the first time I was in the ring so I bulked up, found some strategies, and learned how to fight even people bigger than me and now I can take on anyone who tries to beat me. Life is beautiful but it does screw you over. When life gives you lemons make lemonade and then wonder why life didn’t give you any freakin’ sugar. Point is that life screws everyone over at least once. Life can’t just be nice it has to be cruel yet beautiful at the same time.  
New life is precious but it causes so much pain that it can destroy the happiness of it. You know when there is a fire in a forest it destroys everything but then the next year the forest starts to grow back even stronger than before. I do hate sympathy though. I can’t stand self-sympathy because a lot of people have worse things going on in their lives then I do even if my life sucks theirs suck more.  
Everything in life is beautiful yet deadly at the same time because while something can be beautiful it can turn around and bite you. I've learned this the hard way but you just have to deal with it. If you fall off the horse pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and get damned back up there. When I was 17 I was diagnosed with depression, mood disorder, and disassociated states. I got better once because I found a really good friend in a man named Evan, but he died because I didn’t help him enough I wish I would have been better for him.  
*************************************************************************************Chapter 1  
Dustin  
Seeing a human being curled up on the ground so dirty, small, thin, and shaken almost destroyed me. The small girl can’t be more than twenty. Her body is too thin and she has dirt smudges on her face. She is cowering in the alley way beside my house. Whenever there is a loud noise she curls up as if she is afraid that someone is going to hit her. I usually see homeless people because in Callan Falls there are hundreds of homeless people, but this girl is breaking my heart. I want to go up to her and say, ‘who did this to you?”  
I can see she is broken but from where I'm standing she can be fixed. She looks as if she might be on some kind of drug, but sometimes hunger makes it look like you are. Her brown hair is covered with dust, her shirt is ripped, and so are her jeans. Walking up to her I can see that what I thought was brown hair is actually black just covered in grime. Her pale face is shallow, and she looks as if she hasn’t eaten for at least a week. Her eyes are glazed over in pain. I move to stand close to her and lean over her.  
Peering down I asked the girl, “Are you okay?” For a moment she looks stunned as if she is a deer-caught-in-the-headlights look. Then she focuses her blurred eyes on my face. She smiled, but I could tell that it was a weak fake smile. I wonder how long she has been on the streets because she looks like she has been out here for at least a week. This poor creature. What must be going on in her mind right now having a complete stranger asking her questions.

 

“Please sir do you have anything that I could eat? Or just a little bit of money I can have?” she asks with a voice so quite I can barely hear her. To think that someone has to beg for food is almost sickening for me, my hundred dollar diner is almost coming up. Being a fighter I bring in a lot of money. I'm not a normal fighter. I'm an underground fighter. I guess some of it is illegal but it pays the bills and more.  
“Please sir, I’ll do anything you want for some food,” the girl is practically on her knees even in the pain she is in to beg for the food. That’s when I realized that I hadn’t answered her, and that’s when I realized what she had said about ‘doing anything’. The girl is looking up at me with a hopeful look which I don't want to break. But the disgust in my heart at what she must have had to do to eat for however long she had been living on the streets.  
“Sure thing, come on doll I’ll get you some food. You look cold here you go,” I say draping my black leather jacket on her shoulders revealing my black shirt that if she knew what was on it would probably be running away in the opposite direction. There is still dried blood on it from the fight I had an hour ago which won me ninety-thousand bucks. This tiny girl is holding on to me as if I'm her life line. Her green eyes are dull and almost lifeless. She clings to me as I help her up.  
“It’s gonna be okay,” I tell her. Her expression tells me that she doesn’t believe me. I probably wouldn’t believe me either. She is very skittish so I’ll have to be careful of what I say and do around here.  
“First you have to tell me if you’re on anything illegal,” I said. My only answer is a shake of her head. This poor girl on the streets. What made her to do this to herself? Looking down at her wrists I know that she has gone through so much and that she still is, picking her up I look at the bits of her body I can see. They are covered in bruises and cuts. Her face is a bloody mess but the biggest part is her stomach.  
I almost lost my dinner again when I see something carved into her stomach. ERIK. It’s in giant writing and it obviously was done when she was awake because of the way it’s jagged and looks like she moved around when she got it. I can tell that she didn’t want it because she looks down on it then back up at me and starts to cry. The letters are bloody and ragged as if the knife was already dripping in blood when it was done.  
She has a long, deep gash running horizontally across her stomach. While picking her up I'm careful not to touch her where it might hurt her stomach even more. Her eyes close and her head rolls back in pain I know this because I used to be like this every time my brother beat me up. I softly carry the girl up to my flat. The only thing I can hear her saying is the repetition, “No hospital. Please Sir; don't take me to the hospital”. “Okay, I won’t bring you to the hospital, but can you tell me what happened?” Her eyes look up at me and a tear flows down her face. “He did it to me.”  
*************************************************************************************

 

Misha (two weeks ago)  
"You can't beat love into me," I said hotly. "You have to earn it!" Why the hell can't I keep my fool mouth shut and pretend to still love him? “Stop! Get off of me!” I screamed as his fists rained down on my face. I tried to roll out from under him but he kept his knees on either side of my body. “Why the hell are you doing this? STOP!” I screamed louder anger making me react I brought up my hands and I punched his face wiping the sickening look of glee off it. Erik’s face filled with so much anger that I thought his face would freeze like that.  
His fist stopped only an inch away from my face. A cold wave of fear crashed over me, washing away my anger. Trying to stop him from hitting me again I scrambled away closer to the wall as if it is my protection. "You little….!" Erik had me by the collar with both hands and shook me making my head roll slightly back. I clench my jaw to keep my teeth from rattling. Fiery, fury and destructiveness, exploded within me once again.  
"Screw you!" I yelled it this time. Twisting suddenly, I managed to pull out of Erik’s hard grip. I try to duck under Erik’s arm, but Erik grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me against the kitchen counter. Erik drew back his fist and let fly toward my face. It seemed like the fist came at me in slow motion, but still I couldn't avoid it. The punch slammed into my left eye, cracking my head into the cupboard behind me. My vision is going blurry, and I grip the counter edge to keep me from falling down. I started to slowly cry, but I wasn’t giving in so easily. The pain made me angry and lashing out I hit Erik’s face making a satisfying noise, but I'm now scared. Whenever I slap Erik it just makes him angrier.  
Oh no, Erik has at least eight inches on me. I'm only 5’6, and Erik is 6’2 and easily 220 pounds on my 120. With a animalistic roar, Erik grabs me by my hair, dragging me forward he smashes me into a door frame. My nose meets the wood with a sickening crunch. Fighting to keep my feet under me I try to get away from him but no use. Blood is gushing from my nose and multiple other cuts on my body. No one can save me now. I made him so angry. Worse than last time. Erik grabs me by my hair and drags me into the living room. "You really asked for it today, Misha. Take your clothes off," he ordered. It’s time for damage control. "I'm sorry, Erik! I didn't mean to hit you. And I'm sorry your dinner wasn’t done, I wasn’t feeling well." "Misha you heard what I said." Erik’s voice is a angry knife cutting through me and the calm air. A smug smile is growing on his face. Why does he hate me so much? Erik’s getting even angrier since I'm not doing what he says. He hits me so hard that I'm blinded for a second and strips me himself. Please, God, don't let him kill me! “Please, Erik I'm sorry.” His face finally softens. “You should be,” he said.  
As if it’s my entire fault if I only would have had his dinner ready, but I was having morning sickness, which surprisingly doesn’t just happen in the morning. So I told him why his dinner wasn’t ready. I thought maybe he would want the baby, but he didn’t. “A baby! I told you to take birth control. You stupid, ugly woman can’t you do anything right!” he yelled. He climbed back onto me and screamed in my face, “since it isn’t born yet I can get rid of it.” He kept punching my stomach while I'm crying. Then I feel an even greater pain. A knife in his left hand had cut my stomach open killing my baby. I passed out right when I realized that my baby was not in me anymore. When I woke up Erik had carved his name into my stomach.  
I'm lying in a puddle of blood coming from my body while crying from the loss of my baby. I can’t even feel anything except not having my baby. He came into the room and hugs me saying, “I’m so sorry.” But this time was the last time. I had lost so much blood already from him cutting my stomach open but that wasn’t even my thoughts as I crawled into the bathroom and I slit my wrists and waited for all the pain to leave my body. I was ready to die, and I was drifting into a world that would make my pain disappear. Letting the blood drip from my wrists and everywhere else that I could cut, I wanted to die. But I left my stomach alone because Erik already did a number on it. Erik found me while the life was draining out of me and he brought me to the hospital. After the doctor sewed me up they tried getting me to talk to someone and put me in a mental hospital but I left against medical advice. I just ran. I didn’t look back, I wouldn’t look back. I know I will always see the writing in my stomach and that is enough pain for anyone to bear through a lifetime.  
I know I can live on the streets again because I lived on the streets until I was seven then a nice officer gave me a home, but then my foster parents died in a fire and I was the only survivor. I’ve lived on the streets for the past weeks. But my body still hurts from the bruises and cuts that Erik did to me. I had named the baby and I decided I was going to use that name for myself from now on. I knew from the second he hit me that day that I was going to run away from there, change my name to what I would have called my baby, and somehow survive on the streets with the pain I'm in. I'm not Raksha ‘Misha’ Laney anymore, she died when my baby did; I'm now Amarantha ‘Misha’ Laney. Amarantha means deathless and that is just like my baby girl was to me and always will be. She will always be in my mind, in a way I will never forget her so she is deathless in my mind.  
*************************************************************************************  
Dustin  
I carried the girl from the alleyway up to my flat where I laid her down on my black sheeted bed. She fell asleep fully while I was carrying her. The girl is rolling around in her sleep as if she is fighting someone in her dreams. Her whimpering almost makes me want to cry but instead I stay strong for her because if I'm not strong she won’t be. But she reminds me of what it was like for me after Ash beat me up. This beautiful girl is injured so badly that I don't know if she will make it if I don't take her to the hospital. But she pleaded with me not to bring her to the hospital so I’ll have to do the next best thing. Take care of her myself.  
The ringing of my cell phone is what finally got me up and out of the chair beside the bed I put her in. “Z, how are you doing?” I said. Zarabeth is my twenty year old step-sister, but it doesn’t matter because I treat her as if she is my full sister. She is ten years younger than me, and looks nothing like me. She has big brown eyes, black hair that she dyes purple and in a spiky cut, she is 6’0 and muscles that even rival mine. Let’s say she isn’t a girly-girl. She is lesbian, and rather be called a guy then a girl. We do everything together.  
“Zar, I found a girl and she is beat up and cut pretty badly. Will you come over here and take a look at her?” I asked. A brief moment of silence was then broken with an angry growl and my sister asked something that shocked me to the core, “Did you do it to her Dust?” I think my breathing stopped for a moment. How could she think that? “No I didn’t. You know me better than that. After what Ash did to me when I was younger do you really think I would do it to anyone I wasn’t fighting for money? Just get over here I don't know if she is going to make it, and she begged me not to take her to the hospital.” I clicked my phone off without a goodbye; I know she is going to come. She subs in as a nurse for the free clinic downtown when she isn’t performing. She’s been the lead singer in a band for the last three years and around Brooklyn she is known as one of the best singers around. Her band’s name is called Dust & Ashes after me and my stepbrother’s names.  
Zar can’t walk past anyone if they are hurt. Despite her manly image she wouldn’t hurt anything unless it was hurting something, or someone she loved. Looking at this poor girl on my bed I can’t help but to notice how beautiful she is. She looks so in peace lying on the bed, yet so tormented at the same time. I hope she can be saved because if she died I would be feeling guilty for not bringing her to the hospital even though she asked me not too.

*************************************************************************************  
Zarabeth  
I’m on my motorcycle going as fast as I can through the streets of Callan Falls to get to my brother, Dustin’s flat. Hearing about this poor girl almost breaks my heart, but you know life sucks. Life sucks for everyone even if you don’t think your life has been bad so far, something will happen. I know this after my dad died of cancer I decided that I never wanted to love anyone else except for Dustin because I know he would never leave me even if he was dying he would find a way to be with me. Dustin was, and always will be my angel. He was there for me when I thought no one else was. When I was at my lowest, but he always told me that you had to hit rock bottom to come back to the very top. I'm now the leader of my own band that in town everyone is wondering when we are going on tour. In January Dust&Ashes is planning to go to Ireland. Our band is a big hit there. Our song Angels has been on their number one hits list for the past four months.  
Walking up to Dustin’s flat and knocking on the door I straighten my ripped leather jeans, and made sure that not too much skin was showing because Dustin hates it when I have my shirt down to low or up to high on my stomach. He opens the door and gives me a warm hug. “Where’s the girl?” I ask right away. “In my room,” he replies but I can tell this is bad because of the way his voice lilts like he has been on the verge of tears. I know he is having the flashbacks of what Ash did to him when he was younger. “Ash is gone and he will never hurt you again,” I said in a soft voice as he is leading me towards my bed room.  
Ash had been put in jail for 20 to life because of killing someone in a bar fight. He just nods and that’s all I get out of him. I hear a tiny squeak of pain coming from his bedroom and I push him aside so that I can get to the girl. I throw the door open and then stop in my tracks. The girl is beautiful. She is like a fallen angel. Her hair is framing her face in a way that would make her face look like a heart but it’s too shallow to imagine. This poor beautiful girl. Her eyes are looking up at me in pain, and also wonder.  
“Hey sweetie. I'm a trained nurse but I need your consent to take care of you,” I tell her. “Please help me ma’am, but don't bring me to the hospital. He will find me,” she whispered looking at me through squinting eyes. “Okay doll I won’t bring you to the hospital, unless your too bad that I have to. I wont let anyone hurt you anyway. You have to promise to do what I ask,” I told her. I lift the top that is obviously my brothers off her belly where Dustin had told me there was some damage. Seeing the cuts all over her stomach I almost start crying. This poor girl has gone through hell and back and her she is still fighting through it. I won’t let death take her away from me I already like her, but I have to get her healed first. So I get to work cleaning her wounds and re-stitching them up. I know that they have already been stitched but have been torn apart by the ragged edges. I hear a soft moan of pain come from her lips and I almost cry from the sheer pain composed on them.  
Amarantha ‘Misha’ Laney  
Sometimes things happen, and you can’t stop them. Have you ever seen leaves falling off a tree in the fall? How if one gust of wind blows most of them fall off, and die. Humans are sort of like that too. We live a bit, but then something happens and you die. Also like leaves if you are lucky you stay on the tree holding on through the winter. We are so fragile. Yes I used be called a freak, but really I’m just a normal human. In life you’re never ready for what might, or will happen. Whether it’s good or bad, you can always try to be ready but you will never succeed. I myself rather be unready rather than paranoid over what might happen.  
Anything can happen in life and I guess even in death. People think their problems will stop in death, but they don’t always. I know this, but a lot of people don’t and they find out the hard way. In the most part death releases you from all the pain in life, but the exceptions are young people in accidents, and homicides. Death and life are so completely different, but they are so much alike. The death of people around me bring tears to my eyes even if I don’t know them, but what I feel deep in my heart is the need for revenge. I’ve been in homicide for two years now and I always find the killer. I couldn’t save myself from Erik. I was with him for five years and that’s when I decided I wanted to be a homicide detective. Life hasn’t been what I expected.  
All of my life changed when my dad died. Life is always worth it no matter what. Good things come to those who wait but there usually the leftovers of the people who were there first. I grab every opportunity as if it’s my last because it very well could be. No matter what you say or do, things happen. You can’t stop or control them if they really want to happen to you. I wish I could have stopped something’s from happening in my life. My dad died in a car accident and I haven’t had the same look in life for the past five years. When my dad died, Erik was there to pick me back up, and I felt like I owed him and that I had to stay with him. Now I know that nothing that happened with him was my fault it was him not me and that I owe him nothing.  
*************************************************************************************  
The light shining from a window woke me up and I rubbed my eyes ignoring the pain like I have been for the last two weeks. I can see a girl sitting in a chair beside me. Her eyes are closed and she looks so pretty, even though she looks as if she is trying to be a guy I feel a strange attraction to her. I guess this was who healed me last night. I probably should do something to thank her, but all I have is my body, I have nothing else to give to her. Maybe she doesn’t even want me. My stomach growls from hunger because I haven’t eaten anything in the last four days and I'm so hungry my eyes are blurry. I will do anything for food because I am so hunger.  
I crawl, the best I can, to the girl’s chair without opening my stiches. I slowly sit on her lap and put my lips to hers. Her moans tell me she likes it as my tongue slips over her teeth. This isn’t as bad as I’ve had to do on the streets for shelter and food. I run my fingers through her short hair and her eyes slowly open. She gives me a startled, shocked look that slightly turns to anger. “Get back on the bed!” she snaps. I comply immediately. I scooted as far away as I can from her on the bed and curl up in a ball ready to be hit or worse. “Please don't hit me,” I whimper. Oh God please don't let her hit me in the state I'm in I may never recover from another attack. One part of my mind goes to the unspoken question; does she not want me? If not then what can I give her in thanks for helping me and how can I get food.

Zarabeth  
This girl thinking that I would hit her almost makes me see red. Yet not at her. Whoever did this to her deserves to die a slow painful death I would never hit anyone unless they deserved it. The reason I snapped at her to get down was because I don't want her stiches to open back up. She is curled up in a little ball. I reach my hand out to gently touch her face, but she flinches away as if I'm going to strike her. Her eyes are swollen from crying. “Darling its okay I won’t ever hit you,” I say trying to reassure her but her eyes still hold a great deal of pain in them. She is so distrustful of everyone around her, but so would I if what happened to her happened to me.  
“Ma’am I was just trying to repay you for helping me. I have no money and all I have is my body,” she said then quickly added, “You can use my body if you give me some food?” She said this questioningly as if she didn’t know I it was okay or not to ask for food. “Sweetie relax and I’ll get you some food in a minute. Lift your shirt up so I can check your stiches,” I said and she quickly obeyed. She stripped her t-shirt off and leaves her tattered bra. She lays there with her arms above her head for at least two minutes before I realize what she is still offering. “I don't want sex for helping you. Can you tell me your name?” She looks unsure for a moment and she bit her lip and said, “My name is Misha. I'm Russian.” I whispered her name and it rolls off my tongue as if I was saying something exotic. “I'm Zarabeth, but call me Zar.” Her beautiful eyes roam over my body and I feel a rush of warmth spread through me.  
I gently trailed my fingers along her stiches. She is lucky that she is as good as she is right now. Looking down at my watch I realize I have to be at practice in ten minutes. Well, practice can wait for today. I pull a warm blanket up to cover Misha, and I hold her in a backwards hug because she is facing away from me I put my chin on the top of her head. Whispering “It will be okay” Misha fell asleep in my arms and an hour later I went to sleep and had dreams about this new girl beside me.  
Dustin  
The ringing of my cell phone woke me up. I had gone out leaving Zar with the girl and went to sleep at my friend Ricky’s house. What was done to the girl was obviously done by a man, and by what was done to her was done by pretty big, angry man. I roll over on Ricky’s guest bed and check the urge to smash my cell phone into little bitty pieces. Barley. But I do manage to check the urge. I looked out the window, the whole reason I had come to Ricky’s apartment is because I'm in love with him and I have been since high school. He says he is gay, but I’ve never got up enough courage to ask him out. Well not yet anyway.  
“Oh no!” was yelled from outside my door most likely coming from the kitchen. Ricky tries to cook but he isn’t very good at it. I roll out of the bed and put my warm feet on the icy cold floor. I walk out the door before I realize that all I'm wearing is some boxers. Ricky looks at me as if he wants to eat me up but then the look is gone and he says, “I burnt the toast.” Laughing I walk over to him and take the charred toast from his hands, it has already suffered enough. “I can see that,” I chuckled, “Want to just go out for breakfast?” Ricky looks embarrassed for a moment before shaking his head. I don't have to be magic to see something is wrong. So I ask him. His face heats up and the red travels from his face down to his neck.  
“I’m being evicted tomorrow because I don't have enough money to pay rent… for the last couple of months. Hell I don't even have two nickels to rub together, I don't know what I'm gonna do,” he said softly. Ricky’s eyes become glazed in tears, and a single one drips down his face. Without thinking I say right away, “You can stay with me.” Ricky’s eyes then light up as if its Christmas morning and he got the best present in the world. “You serious?” he asks unbelieving. “Uh ya! I’ve wanted you to stay with me ever since high school when we said we were gonna join Zar’s band but we never did.” Ricky smiled and said with a grateful voice, “Thanks man without you I would be living on the streets.”  
Smiling I go to hug him and somehow his lips meet mine. I run my fingers through his long black hair tangling them in it while I tasted whiskey and smoke on his tongue. Leaning back to take a breath I angle my face slightly away from him. “Are you sure you want to do this.” Ricky nodded with his eyes half closed as if in bliss. “I've wanted you since high school, but I thought you were straight until this year when you came out of the closet to the rest of us,” Ricky said in a soft voice. My mouth went into a little ‘O’ of surprise at this. “I always thought you weren’t attracted to me in that way. I thought you hated that I'm a fighter. You always say that your body is like a temple and I don't treat mine that way,” I say while he shakes his head softly. “I know I always tell you that but the only thing I don't want you to do is drugs or something even worse. I just don't want to see you die like we both saw Evan die.”  
I cringe at the thought. Evan died of a drug OD and we were in the next room over when it happened. When we found him there was nothing we could do to revive him. He was barely hanging on. That 911 call broke a piece of me that day. Having to say that my friend, who was like a brother to me, is most likely dead and I can’t do anything about it destroyed me. The call just made it so much more real. Ricky stopped partying after that, but I still did to keep Evan’s name alive and also to drown myself in my sorrow of losing him. I can’t believe that I lost him to something as hateful as drugs.  
I knew he was addicted to them and if I could go back in time I would help him before any of it happened. He was addicted to Heroin just like my mother was. I’ve lost two people in my life because of that stupid drug. I can’t believe I didn’t stop him when I had the chance. I remember him first doing it and I did it along with him. After the first time I came to my right mind and told myself ‘no you ain’t gonna die the way your mama did.’ “I won’t die like he did. I won’t make anyone go through that pain again.” Rick nodded and started kissing me in a way that I have never been kissed before… He kissed me with love.  
Misha  
I wake up in a strong set of arms. Turning slightly I see the woman, Zar, holding me. Her face that was last in a scowl is now relaxed and even more heavenly then she is when she is awake. I think I'm falling in love with her. But I'm still hurt. I'm so ugly my stiches make me look as if I'm a scarecrow. My emotions are fried, my body looks awful, and I'm not over Erik. When someone comes up close behind me or just close to me at all I sometimes still get really scared. I feel like a frightened mouse. Why would this strong woman want to love me, I wouldn't be any good for her. I look at the little alarm clock that I noticed on a table in the corner. It reads 9:30am. Should I wake her up, she probably has a life that I disturbed that she has to get back to. “Zar wake up. Wake up beautiful,” I whisper shaking her slightly. Her eyes open slowly and her gaze scans my body. “You doing alright?” she asks with concern. I nod and rub my body up against her to keep warm because she is hogging the blanket.  
Zar’s brown eyes look into mine and she pulls me down on top of her. “I'm going to write a song about you my little Russian doll,” she says in a soft voice. “I’d like that,” I answer with a kiss on her check. Worrying for a second I bite my lip and let out a small whisper, “Are you going to leave me?” Her face holds a shocked expression for all of a minute. “No, I’ll be right by your side until you get better.” Taking a big breath in for courage I say, “What if I don't want you to leave after I’ve healed? What if I want to be with you?” Her smile brightens the room before going dull for a moment. “Would you go on tour with me?” her voice sounds small in the big room. “Yes! Yes! Yes!” I yell jumping into her arms hugging her while raining kisses all over her face.  
“I thought you didn't want me and I was so worried,” I said honestly. Zar’s eyebrows pulled together slightly and a half grin comes to her face. “I want you, never doubt that. I just didn't want to hurt you anymore then you have already been hurt in your past.” I take a deep breath in, “I have to tell you something… I am bisexual. I had a boyfriend that abused me for years… it’s going to take a little while to heal my wounds, emotional and physical.” Zar looks as if she wants to punch something and a brief flash of fear shoots through me, but then I realize how stupid I'm being because I know that she wouldn't hurt me. “I will hunt that man down and make him so sorry for hurting you that he will wish he was never born.” “Zar I just want you to give me some time. I want to make us work,” I say softly.  
“I want that to my little doll,” her voice cracked and tears started falling from her eyes. “What did I say wrong?” I ask nervously. “Nothing, you have just made me the happiest woman in the world,” she said. I smile. Gently I straddle her and kiss her smiling mouth. Zar’s trying her best to make sure that my stomach doesn’t touch hers by accident. I know she doesn't want me to get hurt. “You are the kindest sweetest person in the world,” I whisper in her ear.  
Her arms wrap around me careful still to keep my belly above touching hers. I don't care if I get a little hurt. I like her so much already a little pain for love is okay with me. “Zar, what if Erik comes after me and finds me?” I ask in a hesitant voice. “I will make sure he doesn’t hurt you ever again. You are mine right now and forever will be. I don't know why but I already have strong feelings for you


End file.
